


My Cousin Crowley

by Unashamed_Enthusiast



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bickering is a Love Language, Courtroom AU, Fake It Till You Make It, Florist Crowley (Good Omens), Human AU, Lawyer Aziraphale (good omens), M/M, My First AO3 Post, My cousin Vinny - Freeform, So much bickering, ohmygod they were roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unashamed_Enthusiast/pseuds/Unashamed_Enthusiast
Summary: Adam and Wensleydale have their road trip to uni rudely interupted by being arrested for a murder they didnt commit.Can Adam's uncle and his roommate, the newly qualified lawyer, save them from jail?Or, the Good Omens / My cousin vinny mash up that litterally no one asked for
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1: It's ineffible

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, firstly I know that the title says cousin, and I've written him as an uncle. But honestly the title 'My Uncle Crowley' sounds like a Christmas family hijinx movie, and writing Crowley as Adam's cousin just feels odd. So here we are.

“What are the chances you can get in touch with your parents?” Adam asks without much hope

“Statistically low enough that I don't want to waste my one phone call on the attempt,” answers Wensleydale. “What we need is a lawyer, a great lawyer. Do you know any great lawyers?”

“Nope. I’m calling my mum”

The desk sergeant dials Mrs. Young’s number and settles in for what is probably going to be a very awkward family conversation.

“Mum? Hey mum!” Adam starts with false cheer, “Um, yeah, not so good actually. We’ve... We’ve been arrested.”

“Mum, calm down, it’s not that bad, we..” Adam looked to Wensleydale as if he could change the answer he had to give his mother. “Murder.”

“Mum! Mum, deep breaths, okay, we didn’t do it, it’s just a big mistake, okay?”

“Ask her if she knows a lawyer!” Wensleydale pipped in.

“We just, we just need a lawyer to help sort it out and we..” he turned to Wensleydale, “how much is a defense lawyer?”

“Forty, fifty thousand?”

“Forty, fifty thousa… I know mum, I know… um, I dunno” he turned back to Wensleydale “Can we use any lawyer?.... He says he thinks so... Really? Can you ask him?” He covered the receiver to relay the conversation to Wensleydale “My uncle’s roommate is a lawyer, he might do us a deal.”

\- - - - - - 

“Even if that is the case, which it’s not” Crowley continued as he unfolded from the car.

“It is”

“It is not, the point is moot. We’re here, which is 20 miles _past_ the convention, the car is fine and we’re both still standing.” Crowly looked over to Az who was leaning against the bentley taking deep steadying breaths. “Which means i was right, and neither argument will hold up next year."

The threat was enough to make Az pull himself together. “If I look under there and the strut _is_ off center, will you admit that the car did not in fact ‘make it in one piece’?”

Crowley gestured emphatically to the very much In One Piece Bently with theatrical disbelief. “86 years and not a scratch!”

“That, dear boy” Az countered from his crouch beside the wheel arch, “is because of how many repairs you’ve made, and nothing to do with any miraculous imperviousness to damage when you go 90 miles an hour on C roads.”

“You are no fun, you are” Crowley grumbled as he surveyed the woeful highstreet of Tadfauld. “I bet the sushi here is terrible.”

“Afternoon lads, car trouble?” a short scruffy man directed to where Az crouched by the wing. 

“It’s fiiiine” mouthed Crowley with a placating hand wave. 

“She is braw," the scruffy stranger agreed, settling in for a good admire "you boys up from the Edinburgh show?” 

“The Classic Car Convention?” clarified Crowley, “Oh no, she would never have survived the drive from London. Motorways and A roads would have simply _shaken her to pieces_ ”

Az straightened his soft jumper as he stood to glare across the car at Crowley.

“Ach that’s a cryin shame, she’d have been much admired” the stranger continued with sympathy “She might still find some good company though, a lotta them come through the country roads on the way back north. Famous for our roads round here we are.”

“Famous for your roads?” asked Crowley, “How’s your sushi?”

Having apparently had enough of admiring the Bentley, the stranger gave a short chuckle and continued on his way. 

“Does this look like the type of place to have a sushi restaurant? You’re going to let everyone know you’re a tourist.” Az chastened.

“Oh! And what are you? One gig outside of London and you’re a globetrotting professional?“

“At least I blend in.” At Crowley’s raised eyebrow he adjusted his bowtie and clarified, “I’m wearing tartan.” 

“Oh yeah,” agreed crowley with sarcasm and a fond smile “you blend right in, angel”

\- - - - - - 

Az and Adam were ushered into interview room 3 to find Crowley clearly terrifying poor Wensleydale by merely existing. Az’s apology over the confusion of interview rooms was drowned out by Adams' shout and rush to hug his uncle. Wensleydale looked remarkably relieved to learn he hadn’t been locked in a room with a leather clad criminal.

“See you’ve met Az,” said Crowley as he hugged the boy tight before releasing him.

“Apparently so! I’ve heard so much about you I can’t believe you’re actually here!”

A quick darting look at Crowley and his answering tiny jerk of a headshake confirmed they were very much within the bounds of The Arrangement here, Az relaxed a little and directed everyone to sit at the aging desk and chairs.

“All good things I should hope!” Az ignored the face Crowley pulled “seems you boys have gotten yourself into a spot of bother. How can we help?” 

“We didn’t do _anything_ they’re accusing us of, and the stuff we did do they don’t even care about!” Adam blurted with righteous indignation “It’s all a set up and we can’t even work out _why_! Can you get us out of this?”

“Of course I can dear boy,” Az was suddenly filled with utter certainty “for the accusations against you are a lie, a deception, a deceit! And no matter how grandiose, how well-planned, how apparently foolproof of a lie is, the inherent injustice will by definition rebound upon its instigators. No matter how apparently successful it may seem upon the way, at the end it will wreck itself. It will founder upon the rocks of iniquity and sink headfirst to vanish without trace into the seas of oblivion.”

Wensleydale seemed unmoved by such Az’s rousing speech for justice “But more specifically, have you gotten people out of things like this before?”

“Well, not specifically falsely accused murder of a shop assistant, no'”

“But you have had falsely accused…?" pressed Wensleydale, "Armed robbery? GBH? Grand larceny?” 

“Well, no, this uh," Az sat a little straighter and cleared his throat uncomfortably "this would be my first foray into the criminal arena.”

“First time?” Wensleydale looked crushed “You are a lawyer though? What kind of law do you practice?”

“Well until now mainly personal injury, but it is so difficult to find clients who are actually in need of your help. The ones that need it never ask and the ones that do ask end up to be one short dashcam clip away from...” he trailed off at Crowley’s subtle shushing hand gesture, perhaps that was too much detail. “The point is boys you _are_ innocent, and justice must prevail. It’s ineffable”


	2. Chapter 2 - The arraignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice lie in, a good breakfast, get the boys off with murder, home in time for tea. Easy. 

Az took a moment to gather his courage before climbing back into the bentley. This morning, Crowley had taken the SatNav’s estimated 8 hour drive as a personal challenge and gotten it down to 6:12 including a break for lunch. He feared the trip to the court house would suffer the same fate.

“23 mins, ha! Can knock five off that by just not parking, get in angel”

Az raised his eyes to the heavens as if they could offer protection, took a deep breath, and got in.

“It can’t be that bad,” Crowley tried to placate him while taking off at his usual terrifying pace, “they said you just need to go in and introduce yourself, right? Make sure you’re an actual lawyer, which you are!”

“What?” Az couldn’t tear his eyes from the rapidly approaching roundabout.

“Just, just don’t get panicked and do the thing? Alright? You’ve every right to be here and we’ll get the boys off in no time if you Just Stay Calm.”

“I am perfectly capable of handling myself in high stakes situations, Crowley.” After a near thing with a bollard he decided eyes closed was probably the better option.

“Oh sure, yeah, sure, ‘course you are. ‘ _ I can’t sell you the restored Wilde because... A racoon got in! Completely destroyed it my dear boy _ .’” Crowley mimicked in completely unfairly perfect imitation. “ _ The priceless ring, mother? Ah, must be around here somewhere, I’ll forget my own head next.’ _ ”

They pulled to a stop and Az found enough mortal fear had subsided to raise his hands in defence and defeat. “I will tell her when I am ready, Crowley.” 

He opened his eyes to find them outside a large brutalist building and Crowley with his head tipped back against the headrest gazing at him fondly. “I know,” he snapped back to attention and the subject at hand, “I’m just saying, you have no need to exaggerate and going Full Eton is probably not going to go down well with the locals.” 

“I do not go ‘ _ Full Eton _ ’, I didn’t even go there, I have no idea what you could  _ possibly _ mean”

“Absolutely, of course not,” Crowley nodded as Az extracted himself from the car, “Go forth and impress the judiciary, old bean! I shall proceed to procure us some lodgings and perhaps identify an establishment for an evening repast, pip pip!”

Az leaned back down to deliver a withering glare as he shut the door and was rewarded with Crowley’s ridiculous grin. 

\- - - -

Crowley spotted Az standing just where he’d left him an hour ago and swung into a vague suggestion of being parked before throwing open the door. “How’d it go, angel?”

Without so much as a prayer to Saint Christopher, Az got in and arranged a heavy book in his lap. 

Not well then. 

Without a word Crowley drove them at barely illegal speeds to the cafe he’d scouted out for just such an occasion. Az gazed distractedly out the window, his face scrunching up adorably as he worked through whatever he was turning over in his mind. He remembered to give Crowley a glare at his 20mph parking though, so it couldn’t have been a completely disastrous meeting. 

“ _ Informal _ ” Az muttered as he was guided into the cozy kitsch cafe.

Crowley deposited him in a plush armchair next to a doily laden table and ordered emergency restoratives of tea and cake. He suffered to sit in a similarly kitsch chair and wait until Az came back to himself, only mildly offended when that happened to coincide perfectly with the arrival of the cakes.

“She said I looked  _ informal _ .” 

Crowley raised an eyebrow in question. 

“I’m wearing a bowtie, Crowley.” Az reasoned, “This jumper is  _ merino. _ ”

“..sssooo, She didn’t like your outfit and the boys need to get a lawyer with a suit?” Crowley asked with a head tilt.

“What? No, She said it’s fine as long as I read that monstrosity on the differences of Scots law.” Az sat back comfortably with his tea. 

“Right, so, aside from the fashion critique, it’s all good?”

Az took sudden interest in a heavily beaded lamp and nodded a guilty ‘mmhm’ around a large mouthful of tea.

Crowley waited. 

“She went to  _ Cambridge _ , Crowley!” ah, there it is “She has all sorts of awards and degrees and Things In Frames! All over the place! And She was asking all these questions! And She said I was dressed  _ informally _ , and I am wearing a  _ bowtie _ !” 

Crowley waited. 

“I may have” he paused to clear his throat, “I may have gotten a  _ little _ carried away with my achievements. Just ever so slightly.”

Crowley took a deep breath and pressed his hands into his face. “What, specifically, did you say?”

“Nothing really, hardly anything.” After another beat of silence he added, “I possibly might have told her I’d been practicing for 16 years.”

“You did  _ what _ !?”

“..and that I recently represented an insane axe murderer and someone who turned out not to be the Croydon Cat Killer.” 

“Angel.”

“I know, I  _ know _ .” Az winced. They both sat in meditative silence for a while.

“It won’t matter,” Az began with renewed positivity, “the boys have their first appearance tomorrow morning, we can get this all sorted out and we’ll all be on our way. It’s just a simple misunderstanding, that’s all.”

\- - - -

Crowley had found a hotel right on the edge of the river with views across to the distant hills and mountains, which neither of them took the time to appreciate. Crowley had gone from check-in to shower to bed. Az had considered the same, exhausted after the early start and the long terrifying drive, but he really ought to review the ridiculously large tomb the judge had given him. It was nearly 3am and the 5th attempt at the final paragraph of ‘introduction and overview’ that convinced him to finally go to bed. 

The boy’s arraignment wasn’t until 1, he thought as he snuggled down. A nice lie in, a good breakfast, get the boys off with murder, home in time for tea. Easy. 

The piercing shrill repetitive call of some demonic bird had them bolting upright in the pre-dawn light. 

“What the fuck?” Crowley asked the universe as the noise mercifully stopped. 

“HANDS TO THE FLYING STATIONS, HANDS TO THE FLYING STATIONS.” the universe answered. “FIVE. FOUR. THREE.” they shared a nervous confused look at the omnipotent voice and its ominous countdown. “TWO. ONE. MARK. THE TIME IS NOW 0600 ALPHA.” 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” whispered Crowley.

A less intense but equally loud voice replaced the first “Good morning HMS Black Ranger, Crew are reminded that smoking is prohibited in all non-designated areas, and lower barracks E through G are currently off limits. Group B have Mess hall priority. End of morning announcements.”

“ _ What the  _ **_fuck_ ** _? _ ”

Poor Crowley, he’d never done well with mornings. Az opened the curtains to reveal they didn’t have so much a view of a river, as a view of the adjacent marina containing several small pleasure craft, a ferry, a tallship, and a blue-grey ship that one could make a reasonable assumption would be the HMS Black Ranger.

Az gave up any hope of getting back to sleep as a group of sailors assembled on the deck to do some sort of exercise set that changed on a short sharp whistle. He took a deep breath; a good breakfast, get the boys off with murder, home in time for tea. Still very achievable.

“I’ll have a quick shower then we may as well head out and grab ourselves a nice breakfast. That cafe yesterday apparently won awards for theirs.”

Crowley only flopped back on the bed with a breath of confused “what the fuck?” 

\- - - -

It took slightly longer to encourage Crowley up and out, but they soon found themselves back at the delightfully cozy and welcoming cafe. A blond woman with extraordinary eyelashes came over with a polite smile to take their order. Az took one look at half awake Crowley slumped over the table and decided it would be best to order for the both of them. 

“We’ll take two of your award-winning full English breakfasts, my dear.” he said in his most pleasant and charming tone.

“You can have two of our award winning full  _ Scottish _ breakfasts.” the woman corrected in an equally polite tone. “Tea, coffee?” 

“Um, ah, yes, one of each please.”

“It’ll be out in two ticks love” and she disappeared with a wink.

In short order tea, coffee and two plates filled with an assortment of new and interesting breakfast items arrived. Crowley poked at a particularly suspicious square of pink, grey and black..meat? 

“Whassat?”

“That, my dear,” answered Az as he plucked a menu from a nearby table “is very probably...hm. Well let’s work it through logically.” Az put on his nifty reading glasses and worked through the breakfast description, “Bacon, eggs, mushrooms, beans, toast, all accounted for. I’m assuming that’s a potato scone because the rest are all meat. One can assume the square sausage is the square one, and those are haggis and black pudding, making that one… the blaggis slice.”

“Whassat?”

Az had no idea, he flipped the menu to find a little summary of the awards on the back “ooh, it is the  _ award-winning _ Blaggis Slice! Lorne sausage with a half haggis half black pudding centre. Well, there you go.” Crowley continued to eye it suspiciously. “Are you going to try it? It is award winning, dear”

“You first” he mumbled as he started on the more familiar items.

It had to be nice. Surely. It was award winning. Though, is the judgement of people who give awards to 2 types of offal and cubed sausages really be trusted? Az assembled the smallest possible bite that included all 3 elements. 

Oh, actually, oh that’s not too bad at all. Quite a nice balance really. He finished his plate and stole a few items from Crowleys before they paid the bill and settled into their second cups of caffeine. 

“I’ve already asked the sergeant to retract that ridiculous statement Adam gave, really he thought they were being charged with  _ scrumping _ of all things, it has no merit whatsoever.” Az continued to lay out his master plan. “We’ll go in, tell the judge what really happened, she’ll see the mistake, and off we pop.”

An excellent breakfast had been achieved, next they simply needed to get the boys off with murder, then home in time for tea. The day was looking up already.

“Angel,” Crowley prepared for his first sentence of the day containing more than three syllables. He held up the change the waitress had delivered, “This tenner’s got otters on it.”

\- - - -

The courtroom was a large windowless room that was probably considered modern 10 years ago. The gallery was filled with standard blue waiting room chairs popular in offices all around the country, the desks were the same veneered durable tables in the police station interview rooms. Only the raised judges bench and witness stand prevent it being confused with any standard press conference room.

The court officer that had guided Az yesterday showed him to the defendants table. Oh this was thrilling, his first time serving real justice in a court of the land. He turned to where Crowley was taking a seat in the gallery and he couldn’t contain his fond smile at his encouraging thumbs up. This was definitely the start of great things to come.

“Press really shouldn’t be beyond the gallery.” An American voice startled Az from his thoughts.

“Oh? Oh!” Az caught the man’s assumption and stood to shake his hand, “Azirah Fell, Defence lawyer.”

The tall polished american might be surprised, but he took his hand in a firm shake, “Gabriel Arch, Advocate Depute for The Crown.”

The boys were escorted in and Az turned to give the boys an encouraging smile, they looked even younger now than they had yesterday. All this over a simple misunderstanding, it really wasn’t fair.

“All rise!” the clerk called as the judge entered from Her chambers. She took her seat and gave a wave of acknowledgement to the clerk. “You may be seated. Court is now in session for the case of The Crown Vs. Adam Dowling and Jeremy Wensleydale.”

“Counselor, your clients are charged with first degree murder. How do they plead?”

Az sat a little straighter, ready to have this all sorted in the next few minutes and home in time for tea. ”Your honor,“

“Don't talk to me sitting in that chair.” She interrupted before he’d even begun.

Az looked around in confusion, there were no other seats free “I was told to sit here?”

“When you are addressing this court,” the judge explained with exaggerated patience, “you will stand and speak to me in a clear, intelligible voice.”

He stood, a little self conscious at having made a rookie mistake, and looked up to find the judge squinting at him. He patted himself over to check what had caught Her disapproval.

“What  _ are _ you wearing?”

“Um, clothes?” he answered, after this did not appear to be the correct answer he tried again. “I think the jumpers from Ramnation-”

“When you come into my court looking like you do, you not only insult me, but you insult the integrity of this court. Next time you come into my courtroom, you will look 'lawyerly', you'll wear a suit and tie - and that suit better not be  _ knitted, _ Do you understand me?”

Az cleared his throat and nodded out a meek “Yes Judge.” This wasn’t going quite as well as he’d planned.

“Excellent, you may continue, how do your clients plead?”

“Ah, yes! My clients, your honour thought that they were being charged with  _ scrumping _ , your honour.” He smiled as though this clearly explained everything.

The judge's expression told him it did not. “What are you telling me? That they plead not guilty?”

Az took a step forward as he tried again, “No your honour, I’m trying to explain that they -”

“I don't want explanations.” She said with firm authority. “This court has its procedure and that procedure at this point in time is to have an arraignment. Do you understand this?”

“I do understand that your honour,” Az could feel himself getting rankled, this is  _ not  _ how this was supposed to go. “But there appears to be a great deal of confusion between my clients and-” 

“Mr. Fell all I ask from you is a very simple answer to a very simple question. There are only two ways to answer it: Guilty or Not Guilty.”

“They thought the charge was theft of an  _ apple _ -” 

“Once again! The communication process has broken down.” The judge declared with a theatrical turn to the court officer. “It appears to me that you want to skip the arraignment process, go directly to trial, skip that and get a dismissal. Well, I'm not about to revamp the entire judicial process because you find yourself in the  _ unique _ position of defending clients who say they 'didn't do it'.” She paused to take a breath and muttered “The only thing being tried today is my patience.” 

The judge leaned forward and spoke directly to Az, “The next words out of your mouth will either be 'guilty’, or ‘not guilty'. In fact, if I hear anything other than 'guilty' or 'not guilty’, you'll be in contempt. I don't want to hear commentary, argument or opinion, I don't even want to hear you clear your throat.” She gave him a warning glare, ”Now, how do your clients plead?”

Az hated feeling like he didn’t know what he was doing, the only thing worse was others  _ knowing _ he didn't know what he was doing. 

“I understand you perfectly, your honour-” he began in clipped RP

“No!” She interrupted, “I don't think you do! You are now in contempt of court. Would you like to go for two counts?” She leveled him in a challenging glare.

“Not. Guilty.”

“Thank you!” she said with mock sincerity “Bail will be set at £200,000. A preliminary hearing will be set for 9:30 am tomorrow morning. Mr. Arch, is that sufficient time?”

Gabriel stood and adjusted his perfect crisp suit in one fluid motion, “Yes, your honour.” 

“Bailiff, please take Mr. Fell into custody. His bail will be set at £200.”

Apparently, he would not be home in time for tea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A boat? Isn't it a steam whistle in the film? Why would you choose a boat over a mill or a mine?
> 
> This answer has two parts:  
> a. The three weeks a navy ship docked outside my house shall not be forgiven  
> b. There are no mills or mines left, thanks maggie.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi [@unashamedly_enthusiastic](http://unashamedly-enthusiastic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
